Aurelia
Along the shoreline, Aurelia hesitates to approach her friend. She walks slowly. From afar, she'd immediately recognized the crimson-colored hair and that unmistakeable gourd. She chews nervously on the edge of her bottom lip, finding that it tastes vaguely of the ocean's salt, having caught it on harsh winds.
Eventually, she stops while there is still some considerable distance between them. Her hands cup over her lips and she calls out, "Melita!" Then, she lifts her arm to wave. "It's me! Aurelia..." Her voice cracks and she trails off, no desire to repeat her own cursed name.
Her brows narrow together with concern and uncertainty, lips turning down into a half-grimace. How could a whole season have passed like this? Everything shredded apart from the seams, collapsing inward. That's how it feels, at least. Feels like she's taken strides forward and then bounded back to where she'd first began.
Why it's so painful to look upon Melita here, why her chest tightens painfully and her breaths shrink, she can't explain. Why Melita looks so troubled... she doesn't know. Had something happened? Or had word merely passed to these far-reaching pathways, and was her presence therefore unwanted?
Eventually, she stops while there is still some considerable distance between them. Her hands cup over her lips and she calls out, "Melita!" Then, she lifts her arm to wave. "It's me! Aurelia..." Her voice cracks and she trails off, no desire to repeat her own cursed name.
Her brows narrow together with concern and uncertainty, lips turning down into a half-grimace. How could a whole season have passed like this? Everything shredded apart from the seams, collapsing inward. That's how it feels, at least. Feels like she's taken strides forward and then bounded back to where she'd first began.
Why it's so painful to look upon Melita here, why her chest tightens painfully and her breaths shrink, she can't explain. Why Melita looks so troubled... she doesn't know. Had something happened? Or had word merely passed to these far-reaching pathways, and was her presence therefore unwanted?
looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue
with the warning to help me see myself clearer
with the warning to help me see myself clearer
